


Bring me the cliff (I'm going over it)

by gunpowdereyes



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-09 09:20:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3244394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gunpowdereyes/pseuds/gunpowdereyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I know I said we’re too young,” Kurt begins.  “And we are young.  But Blaine, being without you made me realize – made me remember – that I just want to be young with you.  Just like I want to be thirty with you, and fifty, and eighty, and one hundred and twelve.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bring me the cliff (I'm going over it)

**Author's Note:**

> A little bit of fluff and nonsense, or a snippet of the run-on way Kurt would propose to Blaine in some alternate universe controlled by me.

A deep breath, held hands, everything here to be said if Kurt can find his way clear to say it.  And faced with Blaine’s expectant face, those wide endless eyes, he finds there is nothing he’s more willing or ready to do.

“I know I said we’re too young,” Kurt begins.  “And we _are_ young.  But Blaine, being without you made me realize – made me remember – that I just want to be young _with_ you.  Just like I want to be thirty with you, and fifty, and eighty, and one hundred and twelve.  I panicked and worried every time we argued about where to keep the dinner plates or how many cushions a couch really needs because I thought it was a sign of failure.  Of us not being able to live together in peace, which I thought meant we shouldn’t be together at all.  But I got so into my own head about it, so far away from you about it, that I couldn’t see that it was just … growing pains.  It was just learning how to do it, and not magically being good at navigating these new lives together didn’t mean that we couldn’t do it.  And I’ll always be sorry for that, because even though neither one of us went about it the right way, I think you still always had faith that we’d come through it fine.  And we would have, I honestly believe that now. 

“We still could.  If I’ve learned anything since we broke up this time, it’s that yeah, we can make it without each other.  We’d be all right, we wouldn’t literally die, and we could probably be happy.  But I know that I don’t _want_ to do any of it without you.  I know that the kind of happy I could be without you isn’t anything compared to the way it would be beside you.  I want to do it all with you, the good stuff, the bad stuff, the up all night figuring out how we’re going to pay the bills stuff and the in bed all day forgetting anyone else even exists stuff.  I want to show you how much I love you and remind you how great you are when you’re having bad days.  When I have a day so bad I don’t want to hear one more showtune for the rest of the week, it’s you I want to come home to, to hug and kiss and marathon all the bad bridal shows we’ve TiVoed.  I want to raise kids with you and forget what it’s like to get full nights of sleep and make crazy elaborate birthday cakes and not tell anybody that it’s mostly to make the other parents jealous of how fabulous we are.  I want to be there for your opening night on Broadway – I’ll bring flowers, I’ll ugly cry, I’ll brag about you to everyone, the whole deal.  I want to look out in the crowd on my first night and see you doing the same for me.  I want to move into the first place we pick out together and keep our phones off until we’ve had sex on every surface twice.  I want to fight about color palettes for the Christmas tree until we finally settle it by doing one each.  I want to forgive you when you screw up my perfect recipe for beef bourguignon and be forgiven when I accidentally vacuum one of your bowties and bicker for a month about who’s really better at poker even though we both completely suck.  I don’t want it to be perfect.  I just want it to be _you._ ”

Deep breath, deep breath, deep breath.  Kurt doesn’t know how Blaine did this the first time without passing out or crying, although, stunned and speechless, he looks a moment away from crying now.  There is no musical backing, no rose petals rain from the sky, nothing in the quiet room but the two of them side by side and smiling at each other, as they always should be.  And looking at Blaine he knows what the answer will be as sure as he knows what his own answer will always be for Blaine, from now until the end of time.

“Blaine Devon Anderson.  Blaine Warbler.  You are the love of my life, you are all I want.  Will you marry me?”


End file.
